


Flowers

by SansThePacifist



Series: Hamilton Stories [1]
Category: Hamilton - Fandom, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blood, F/M, Hamgelica (onesided), Hamliza, Hanahaki Disease, Hurt No Comfort, I didnt go into much detail sbout it this time though, I dont really know, I spent 48 hours on this straight and havent slept at all so yall better like this, Im sleeo deprived and sick and this is what i do with my life, Implied homophobia, Its probably gonna suck, Jamilton - Freeform, Jkjk, LMAO, Lams (onesided), M/M, Multi, One Sided Love, One-Sided Love, Other, Slow Burn, Spoiler alert someone dies, This dont have a happy ending, This might be kinda depressing??, Unrequited Love, Wow angst much, Wow there actually isnt a lot of hanahaki disease stuff in this fandom??, Yo i aint really gonna try to spoil you guys with the tags, but i tried, but like, debates, hope you guys like it, i think, idk - Freeform, ish, love too late, oh well, people die, yay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-15 03:02:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12312546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SansThePacifist/pseuds/SansThePacifist
Summary: "Jefferson at first, even if he knew it was coming from him, it was real, didn't tell anyone. It was better in their eyes if they found out themselves. Well, it wasn’t like he was actively hiding it from them, from the congress, from his family, from his love. They just never thought much of it when he did it in front of them. A few flower petals here and there, what's it matter? Just meant Jefferson was much softer on the inside than what he shows.Flower boy, huh?He wished it didn't hurt."//People die.////Hanahaki disease stuff!!//





	Flowers

He had fallen hard. That was a no brainer. Yet, it seemed, his mind just wouldn’t, no, _couldn't_ stop spinning. God- at first it didn't. Nothing would be painful, it would just flop out of his mouth with barely any effort.

But few weeks later it hurt. He couldn't breathe. But judging by the petals being hacked up, thrown up, almost as if he was sick, he had no choice. He wasn't loved back.

To be truthful, he could say that would be the end of it, but he has other choices. He could either get a type of surgical procedure done to take it out; but if he did that with how the medical department is now, he would either die from an infection of sorts or just die not knowing of his affections. Then, there was the other choice.

Die a slow and painful death but in love.

He almost wanted to laugh at how _funny_ it was. He had fallen for the infamous Hamilton. If he found out about it, that man's ego would multiply ten times fold, or maybe he would just be upset with him for acting like an ass all the time.

In the end, he just didn't want to be killed- no. That was a lie. Death doesn't matter to him then. He, _The_ Thomas Jefferson, just didn't want to be rejected. Be it by the man he found himself falling for or the people who looked up to him. What a joke he was, hiding behind a suit of bright purples and charm, hatred and shouting, so that Hamilton; Alexander would know.

It was funny, wasn't it? He wasn't alone with this right?

Well obviously so, because he had found himself face to face with others choking on flower petals, most of which were affiliated with Mr. Hamilton. Angelica, the girl who traveled all this way saw him coughing up carnations. It was only fair he saw the golden flowers petals. The flower was almost full for her, he told her to get surgery.

She declined.

 

John. John Laurens was long dead, but people say there were flowers buds all inside of his lungs.

He never really tried to find out himself.

 

 

Jefferson at first, even if he knew it was coming from him, it was real, didn't tell anyone. It was better in their eyes if they found out themselves. Well, it wasn’t like he was actively hiding it from them, from the congress, from his family, from his love. They just never thought much of it when he did it in front of them. A few flower petals here and there, what's it matter? Just meant Jefferson was much softer on the inside than what he shows.

Flower boy, huh?

He wished it didn't hurt.

 

The Congress hadn't found out about it until in a middle of a cabinet meeting during a debate, once again, with Alexander. He was in the middle of speaking when he suddenly began choking on another flower, this time it was full. It has all of its petals. He was going to die. He continued on with the debate almost as if it were nothing.

When Mr. President pulled him aside, he asked him so many questions. “How long have you known?” “Why didn't you tell anyone?”

Oh, how he wished he could tell George. He actually laughed at the last thing he was told. Confess to him? Confess to _Hamilton_?

 

They wish.

 

“They already hate me.”

  
  
  


It didn’t take a long while for blood to start staining the petals or for his eyes to always seem to have a sort of sheen to it, like a dead fish. He wasn't dead yet, of course, but God knows how close he was to collapsing and suffocating to death.

He's an idiot. He should have gotten surgery- or perhaps actually confessed to Hamilton. Alexander. Alex. He hates being called Alex. Forbid Jefferson ever call the shortstack that. He would leave with a bruise and perhaps a few lost teeth. Hamilton knows how to pack a punch.

 

“Hamilton.” The secretary of treasury quickly turned around to face Jefferson, thinly vieled alarm framed upon his face. He couldn't help but notice the faint freckles.

“What do you want, Jefferson?” It had no less bite to it then he would have ever thought. It was funny, morbidly amusing to be frank. He is dying. Hamilton knows he is dying. Yet he hasn't lost the fire in his eyes, the bite that threatens to stop you then and there with every word, venom slowly moving through your veins if he won. A thin smile, a sad one, graced the tall one as he bowed slightly to kiss the top of Hamilton forehead.

He did it.

 

It didn't do anything at first.

 

But then it only got worse, breathing got harder and harder until Washington refused to allow Jefferson to arrive without a doctor there to follow, so when he just calapses one day hacking up carnations covered in blood.

What did multicolored Carnations mean again?

 

“I can not be with you.”

 

How fitting.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Cause of death?

 

Hanahaki disease.

 

\- - - - -

 

He knew something was off with Jefferson. He had been acting weird. Avoiding his gaze, staring for a moment too long. Being _too_ nice. He wasn't even really fighting with him over the stupid thing anymore! Something was off and Alexander was going to find out what.

Surprisingly, a lot harder than it might have seemed. Whatever was wrong with Jefferson, he was hiding it well. Of course, there are the petals that seem to keep appearing, but to be honest, most thought it was for some sort of fragrance or dramatic ploy for something special.

 

It wasn't special. It was far from it. It wasn't very dramatic either.

But of course, Alexander had noticed how Jefferson voice was getting more and more raspy, gravely. He wanted to hear Jefferson come up with a strong comeback in his older, smoother voice. To think Hamilton actually missed fighting with him. Yelling over stupid things like who put the quill where, why he wrote so much, and oh, even better, why he was so short.

Jefferson would come up with anything to set the short man off, comebacks that, honestly? Sucked. Then there are the other facts- god he missed the old Jefferson. Everyday he wanted to go up and ask what's happened to him. Everyday, he'd be a moment to late or early.

He was avoiding him. Wasn't he? Despite common belief and how small he is, he isn't an idiot. Who the hell spreads that shit anyways? Made no sense, kids are smarter than most adults. More mature, of course, it was most likely because of the challenges they have or are facing, but it is a feat nonetheless. But now he is getting off topic.

Jefferson. Thomas Jefferson.

 

Alexander just wanted it back. Peace and quiet is not exactly his thing, he would rather scream at the top of his lungs then sit in a church and pray in silence which- honestly, says a lot. Well, to be fair, he doesn't go to churches that often, few times he had were lawyer cases but now he is in the Congress.

He has a voice. He can scream his opinions at people and god, if they disagree… They started it. Hey, he isn't taking blame for something else someone else would do to him or another. Yeah no. Screw that thought process.

 

_Fools who run their mouths off wind up dead._

That one line, no, sentence, it set Hamilton off his tracks. Why was he suddenly remembering it? He looked up at Jefferson as he gave a smirk. “Knock you speechless, darlin’?” Still uses those flowery phrases, of course. Sounds different though. His voice isn't as smooth as it used to be. And now he was just.. Scared? Why would he be scared for Jefferson. He didn't like him anyways.

_He didn't like him anyways._

_He didn't. Like him. Anyways._

 

Why is that so hard for him to teach himself to believe? Usually he has no problem convincing himself of something. But this…

It gave him butterflies.

 

Jefferson threw up flowers right in front of him. In a middle of a debate. He wiped away the drool that comes with anything related to the mouth and continued on almost as if nothing had just happened.

He's dying.

_He's dying?_

 

Fuck.

 

Hamilton almost threw up himself, right then, right there. He liked having Jefferson around. He's nice to yell at, take out his anger. He's not allowed to die. Alexander isn't going to let it happen.

 

He just has to find the person he was falling for.

 

“Hamilton.” He jumped slightly, quickly turning around to find Jefferson, Thomas, standing right there. He had a smile, it was hiding something amongst how smooth it looked, how kind.

“What do you want, Jefferson?” He didn't mean to bite at him, he didn't mean for it to drip with venom. But he was scared. He still hadn't found out who the others one-sided lover was. He didn't want Thomas to die. He didn't want Thomas to disappear.

Change isn't his strong suit.

Jefferson leaned over a bit and left and- oh. He kissed his forehead. Oh. Jefferson walked away too quick, turned on his heels too quick, to see the look of shock, the blush, him trying to compose himself with mental melodies and pep talks. Jefferson didn't see the effect he had on him. Alexander didn't know if he should be happy with that or angry.

Now he had to find who the person killing Thomas was. He _had_ to.

Hopefully it wasn't him.

 

Hamilton was getting a cup of coffee for himself, frowning as he watched a doctor trail after Jefferson. Even while going through all that pain, he acted all high and mighty. It was actually kind of impressive.

That was until he suddenly crumpled, fast moving people got a low bucket and slid it under him before the blood covered flowers started spilling from his mouth.

He sounded- he was dying. He was dying. Thomas was dying. He said he wouldn't let it happen.

No no no _n ononononono-_

_Fools who run their mouths off wind up dead._

Hamilton gagged, before quickly leaving the room, because god, he may have lived through some of the revolution but the sickeningly sweet smell of those flowers mixed with someone he was starting to think of as a friend- he didn't...

 

An hour later, after someone came in stating the time Thomas had died, he coughed up his own petal.

 

Pink anemones.

  
  
  
Foresken.


End file.
